SlenderHetalia: Beneath the Shadows of the Trees
by GermanyXItaly1000
Summary: The start of a new era-the rising of a long-dead evil. But is the creature that everyone thought was long ago dead truly asleep? Or has Slender been awakened once more? And it's up to the Hetalia nations to either stop him... Or to fall prey to his evil.


**A Slender/Hetalia Fanfiction  
Beneath the Shadows of the Trees, Part 1  
America and England**

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Alfred?" England bent down slightly so that he could pass under a low-hanging branch, worrying over his little brother as he called out to America. "_Alfred_? You bloody wanker, this is no time to be playing sly, little tricks on me! It's nearing nighttime, now come out and show your face to me before I find it!"

_Honestly… where is that kid?_ Arthur glanced to one side of the densely grown trees, then to the other. It was growing darker by the minute, and Arthur didn't approve of Alfred's sudden vanishing into a strange forest that even he had never seen before. _I really don't have the energy and time to be dealing with his crappy games anymore…_

He had come by, just an hour ago, in fact, to pick up Alfred in order to take him over to his house so that they could go over some negotiations. But, of course, leave it to the ignorant, cotton-filled head of that American to make Alfred decide that it would be fun, _very fun_, to bound, like a kangaroo, into the thick forest that he had never even seen before.

And, now, of course, _Arthur_ was the one who had to chase after him.

_Wonderful. Just wonderful… We're—no, I'm lost in the woods now! He goes in, I have to go after him, and now look at the consequen—ah!_

Arthur gave a sudden start as something snapped nearby—and then he inhaled deeply in relief, realising that it was only himself who had stepped onto a small branch on the ground; the path before him was littered with fallen and dead leaves, which crunched under his deep brown loafers as he walked as silently as he could. But the leaves refused to let there be serenity—they made a cracking sound with every slight movement weighed on their surface, splitting at the stem the moment Arthur's shoe was lowered onto them.

_We should be at my house by now… isn't that what we agreed on? To gather at my home to discuss trading and the economy?_ Arthur shook his head in regret as he continued to make his way down the dimly lit path, gazing into the trees as he did. _That boy… I really never can get him under my control. I should have taught him to be more disciplined when he was an infant… Damn. Now he's gone._

"Alfred! As I said before, I have no further time to deal with your games! Now come on out, or I'll come and get you!"

… he waited for a reply. There was only…

_Silence._

"Alfred? _Alfred_! C'mon out, boy-o, I don't have much time! We'll have to spend the entire night conversing about politics and government if you don't come out and get to my home immediately!"

Still no reply. The American really _was_ playing a game with the other nation.

"What. What the hell. I don't even know what I'm doing here, and yet, _here I am_! Oh, God! _What_ am I doing here?!"

Arthur was growing more frustrated with himself by the moment, and without a second more of thought, he marched over to the closest tree—a large, secluded, towering wall of wood, one that stood far from the others in the center of the cleared-out space within the deep forest.

Arthur didn't even stop to question why the tree stood so alone and forlorn away from the others, standing out so awkwardly and dramatically—he only mumbled something to himself about imbeciles and Americans before giving an exasperated sigh as he thought to himself, gazing up at the extended, crooked arms of the tree as he did.

The branches did cast a quite lovely shadow across the park… it blocked out some of the slowly dimming sun, and Arthur found himself staring at the ground, how the tree's arms seemed to grow out as if they were tentacles.

_It really is, in a sense of its own, beautiful… but whatever._ Arthur groaned to himself, kicking at a pebble before grunting in consent as the little piece of rock skidded a few feet away on the leaf-covered ground. _Where _is_ that stupid American now, anyways? I'm never going to find him like this… not while I'm exhausted and tired to the bone…_

The Englishman gave a curse as he leaned back against a tree, letting himself slowly slide down to the thick trunk's base so that he could give his sore legs a sense of relief as they were allowed to rest. It was really too much, chasing after America all day, never getting a rest, and having to deal with all the disasters that the other created. They all blamed him, of course, because he was the one who had raised the hamburger-loving idiocy.

_What the hell was I thinking… I should have given him over to France when I had the chance. But… oh, well. I'm stuck with him now… and for the rest of history to come._

There was nothing left to do. So what if Alfred had already declared his independence from England? So what if the boy had decided to go off on his own way and do other things that Arthur hadn't? Arthur didn't give a lick, but, unfortunately, it was much too late to take a claim back. Alfred wasn't even an English colony anymore, and yet _he_, Arthur Kirkland was the single scapegoat for the younger nation's every fault and mistake.

Even though Arthur was quite fond of Alfred and couldn't bear to cause him any harm or anguish, he still _hated_ the way the American acted, dressed, and looked. He wasn't the one who had taught Alfred those things—to hell with those childish appearances! America's behaviour could die in a hole, if Arthur was allowed to wish it to.

"… _Damn that kid_."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Haha! That stupid scone-munching England! He'll never catch up with me now!_Whoohooooo_!" America let out a loud cheer as he rushed across the path that the trees, grown so closely together that there was no light beneath their branches and leaves, had parted to form.

"England, you idiot, you really think I was joking about playing a trick on you? Ha!" Alfred gave a chortle, racing down the path once more, and then choking suddenly on a hamburger that he had been chewing. He coughed several times, then slowed to a stop as his breath grew short and exhausted. "_Ha…_ Yeah… A dude should never eat while running… should've thought about that before I started to eat."

… actually, now that he thought about it, it did seem very stupid to suddenly jump off and run into the trees. And now… where was he?

In a forest, of course. Late at night, if he was correct. "Man, I didn't realise that it was so late already…" Alfred glanced down at his watch, noting the time. "10:49 PM already? What the heck is happening? It wasn't that late when I came in here… well… maybe it was…"

The truth was, he hadn't been paying attention to the time, even though England had managed to bug him into leaving several of them in a room so that he wouldn't forget what time it was. Arthur had, in short, been able to fill Alfred's house with a dozen of clocks, but they were utterly useless, seeing as the American refused to look up at any of them anyways.

"Hmmm… well, maybe I should've checked the clock earlier before I left."

_Boy, _should_ I have checked that clock! Now I don't even know how I'm going to find England in this darkness!_

Alfred Jones shrugged, pushing his hands into his jeans pocket as he started to walk, glancing back and forth to see if Arthur would come after him to catch up. Once he had looked behind his shoulder, thinking that it was England who had been walking behind him, but it wasn't… it was more of a strange night creature that he hadn't ever seen before. A black-furred animal, probably, as it was thin and tall and blended in well with the nighttime.

"That's okay, Al. We're just gonna walk a little further… Now, you're the hero! You're either going to find Great Britain or he's going to find you!" Alfred thought to himself about this statement for a moment as he continued to stroll forward, not exactly knowing where he was going. "Nah… if he finds me… he gets to take the credit for saving me… dang. Better find him first."

Alfred quickened his pace as he speed-walked down the dirt-covered trail, turning his gaze down to glimpse the overgrown grass. "Man… they really don't have a good gardener here, huh? Weeds all over the place…"

He had to pull one of the stems of grass from his sock, where it had gotten stuck, as he walked through a patch of even taller stalks of green, making his way off of the path and seeing if England had gotten stuck in the trees. _That'd be so like him. After all, he's not a hero like me—ow!_

He had walked straight into something—a tall pole, maybe. "Damn, that's got to be one thick pole to run into…" Even though he extended his hands to try to wrap them around the "pole", they didn't even get close to being able to hug the entire, metal, rusted thing.

There was a metal clang as he had hit it… _and then a dead silence. Even the wind seemed to have stopped blowing…_

"Whoa, man… that's creepy…" Alfred reached out with one hand to feel the air. "It's gotten colder now… but no wind… weird. Now. What is this thing?" He paused for a moment or two to think about it. "A silo?"

Yeah, maybe that's what they called it. A silo. There was a crinkling sound, almost similar to paper, as Alfred peeled himself off of the silo, remembering how Arthur used to say that he always ran into walls and lamp posts. Now Arthur would have even more reason to chide him for walking straight into a silo.

"Well… better get back onto the path so I don't run into anything else." As he returned to the trail, trying to make up an excuse or two to tell England when the older country would find out that Alfred had run into a silo—simply because he was looking at the grass. He tried, as he thought, to ignore how eerily quiet the woods had suddenly become—how the branches, above him, were moving so silently and smoothly, deliberately. "Well… I could always tell him that… old habits are hard to brea—_aah_!"

Alfred heard a rustle from within the trees, somewhere deep within that haven of hollowed, dead trees that swayed in the wind, high above him—and, upon looking into the trees, saw just how dark it had gotten. _I-It never was this dark before… w-wait… how'd I end up here anyways? In this place?_

"…E-England? Dude, w-was that you…? England? He-hey, man! Fine, I give up, I don't want to play this game anymore! Now can you come out and stop scaring the heck outta me? E-England? _Arthur_?"

_There. The cracking of the leaves beneath heavy feet just feet away to his side, within the trees. The sound of low breathing that wasn't Arthur's. The breaking of branches under the soles of those shoes._

"England? A-Arthur? N-No way, man! Cut that out! It's freaking scary!" He began to walk away from the direction of the sound. "A-_Arthur_! Arthur, help me! Where are you?!"

_Rustle… rustle…_

"N-No! Whatever you are, stop it! Leave me alone here, man! Don't you know who I am?! You c-can't follow me around like this!"

_Rustle… rustle…_ The sound only grew louder, and, looking behind his shoulder, he glimpse a slight movement-but then the thing had gone already, vanished into the trees.

..._But that doesn't mean I'm safe._

He gave a start—and ran, not knowing where he was going to or how he was to escape from the thing pursuing him.

_Rustle… rustle…_ The sound of inhumanly movements. _Rustle… rustle… Crack._

"ARTHUR! Come on, get over here and let's get _out of this place_!" He found himself stumbling over his mud-stained sneakers, and immediately found himself facedown, on the ground, with no protection. Alfred's hands scrambled to cover his head in the hope that whoever, or _whatever_ the thing was that had been following him, it would pass him.

Moments were spent in quiet, deadly suspense as Alfred waited for it to come for him…

… Silence. The noise was gone, but now, somehow, Alfred felt a terrible, dreadful sense of foreboding possessing him, deep inside his soul. _Something's about to happen._

But what? "T-this can't be good… n-no… I gotta get back to Arthur."

Something was lurking within these woods, and he didn't know what it was. But he knew that somewhere beneath the shadows of the trees, something waited, curling its lips in hunger, awaiting him to come to it.

Alfred scrambled to his feet, brushing the dead leaves off of his now-ripped jeans, which had been torn when his knee scraped against a rock and had drawn a bit of blood. "I-is…" He spoke in a low, quiet voice, murmuring, almost: "Is anyone there?"

… _no one_. Good, the thing had left him, and he was alone…

And then a creak.

"Damn!" He turned in the other direction, a strange ringing sound in his ears as he tried to run forth in the darkness, the sound pounding in his head as he ran. After a minute or so of running, the sound was gone, and he was able to gasp in horror and realisation.

"Man… this ain't good."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"_England! Hey, England! Wake up, dude! Wake up! Get your head out of the ground! Man, you have to get up now! Run, dude! Run!_"

"Hmm…?" Arthur let out a quiet groan as he blinked… everything was blurry. And then—"Damn it, America! Where the hell were you?! Leaving me to run off into the forest by yourself, and now, in the middle of the night, you decide to come and get me and tell me to leave?! Should have come back earlier, you imbecile!"

Arthur got up from the ground, where he had been lying in slumber, exhausted from the chase after Alfred. He would have pounded the latter if the boy hadn't grown taller than him by now—and on the other's childish face, there was an expression of utmost fear and terror that Arthur wasn't used to seeing.

"America… America… _pardon me_, sir!" Arthur waved a hand in front of Alfred's face, mockingly calling him a sir as he gazed up into his brother-figure's face. "What's wrong? Have you lost your head at last?"

"E-England—! Listen, man, we gotta get out of here! There's something in these woods! Hey, hold on there, I can't even see your face… give me a second here…"

The next thing Arthur knew, there was a bright beam of light directed on his face, and he covered his eyes in pain. "You idiot! At least give me a fair warning before trying to blind me!"

"So-sorry, England, but listen to me! There's someone—no, _something_—in this forest, and you gotta believe me, it's out to get us—England? Are you listening to me? Hey, England? Arthur?"

Arthur had gotten to his feet, swaying as he tried to regain his balance, and was now staring at something on the tree. "… Alfred… have a look here at this." He ripped something off the rough wood, grabbing the end of the flashlight and aiming it onto the piece of paper.

"Hey—" Alfred was about to protest when Arthur tapped him on the shoulder, directing his attention the yellow, faded sheet of binder paper that had been attached to the trunk of the tree. "Arthur… what… _is_ this thing?"

"'No…'" Arthur squinted his bright green eyes, trying to read the scribbled words under the strong light. "… _no, no, no, no, no, no_…? A-Alfred… it's… I think it's… a warning."

"A-a warning?" Alfred's eyes grew wide in fear. "Y-you're serious about this, right? Dead serious?"

"_Alfred_." Arthur's eyes turned up to the boy's, the grim orbs burning into his. "I think… you're right. _We need to get out of here_. Now."

And with the paper in hand, they ran, stumbling over their own feet as they rushed out of the trees to search, with hopeful and fearing eyes, for England's car. There was a high, shrilling noise in Arthur's ears, and no matter how much he held his pounding temples or clapped his hands over his ears, it wouldn't stop. "A-Alfred… d-do you hear that?"

"That noise! It's back!" Alfred's eyes darted back to gaze at Arthur, who was slowing down with each step he took, coughing and gasping as he tried to run. "Man… I forgot about how sick you were the other day… c'mon, I'll carry you."

"No! You idiot, that will slow us down even more! Just keep going!"

_A pounding sound. Thumps, echoing in the back of their minds, resonating through the forest…_

_Rustle… rustle…_

"Come on, Arthur, run! Faster, it's coming!"

"Th-the car… d-do you remember…" Arthur gave a sore cough as he tried to pick up the speed, saying, "Do you remember… wh-where it is?"

"Yes, I do! Hurry, it's coming!" With each step, the thumps and rustles grew closer… closer…

"A-Alfred… it's catching up… j-just leave me here… I can't go on any further…"

"No, c'mon, Arthur! Are you Great Britain or are you not?" Then, as they emerged from the trees, Alfred supporting Arthur up with one of his arms, wrapped tightly around the other's waist, he saw it. A deep blue sedan. "There it is! C'mon, Arty, hurry!"

America rushed for the car, England at his side, and the moment England was in the passenger seat, America clamber over his older brother's weakened body and slammed on the pedal—but the car wouldn't move.

"Arthur! Your keys!" Alfred didn't wait for an answer, but grabbed for Arthur's pants pocket, rummaging inside, feeling the warmth of Arthur's flesh against the clothing and realising just how ill he was, and searched for the car keys.

_And all the while, the sounds were growing closer… the deep thumps, the rustles, and now the shrill, screaming noise…_

"Here it is! Hold on there, buddy—I'll get us home and safe. Don't worry about it…" Alfred scrambled to insert the car keys in the slot… the sound was ever so close, almost as if right beside him… and, just as he was about to step on the pedal—he glanced to through the side window, which was just two inches open...

"O-Oh God!"

_A faceless apparition. Masked features. Dark, slimy tentacles grown out of its hideous back, clothed in a white dress shirt, a black coat, and tie…_

"A-Arthur…" His vision was suddenly blurring as he stared into the face of the_thing_. "Wh-what's going on… Arthur… Arthur… wake up… i-it's… here."

He slowly sank back into his seat, staring straight, with dull eyes, into the face of the creature as it slowly slipped a wriggling tentacle into the small opening in the window… it touched his neck, and began to wrap around…

"_America! You idiot!_" Suddenly, the car accelerated forward—if not for the clear path before them heading away from the forest, they might have crashed. Alfred was jarred awake as the tentacle was whipped back from his neck, out of the window and back to its faceless owner, and he slapped a hand to his neck as he cried out in shock.

"A-Arthur! Wh-what just happened!?"

America was met with a slap to the right cheek. "_You idiot!_" England gave a shout as he pulled his other leg over to Alfred's side so that he was practically sitting on the other's lap so that he could drive away from the darkened woods. "You nearly got us killed!"

"I-I'm sorry… I don't know why… when I looked at the thing, it just… suddenly… I felt so sleepy… hypnotised…"

Arthur gave a small sigh. "… It's alright… but. You're still an idiot. Now…" He really couldn't think of what to do next. After the night's terrifying experience… what now?

"… Let's go home."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Deep inside the woods, a figure lifted its head towards the light of the full moon, its faceless form gazing up at the bright, round sight. Once dormant and thought to be lost forever within the clutches of the dead forest, it was alive once more.

_It have been awakened…_ A slight breeze rushed through the forest of trees._The end has neared…_

_Those human creatures have managed to run free of my once more growing power... The world has escaped from my grasp once. Now... never again._

And as the night culminated to its height, Slender, in all its darkness and evil, was reborn.


End file.
